


kiss me so i remember how

by skywalkerz



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angsty Tony, Endgame coping lol, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Making Up, Sleepy Cuddles, Steve cares so much!!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2020-03-05 06:49:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18823321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skywalkerz/pseuds/skywalkerz
Summary: This warmth, this closeness, the intimacy of someone knowing every inch of your soul – it’s unsurpassed. It’s everything. It’s the only reason Tony can wake up sometimes.





	kiss me so i remember how

**Author's Note:**

> y'all ever just write midnight stony fic to cope after endgame??? cuz me!!!!

“You don’t have to do that, you know.” Steve says sternly but softly.  
Tony is fiddling with something on his work bench as he scoffs. “Do what, Cap?” He sounds exhausted, halfway delirious, Steve knows the tone by now, knows the song and dance to how this will play out.  
“Act all high and mighty; it’s not cool anymore to disregard feelings, it just makes you pathetic.” Steve bites back. It’s harsher than he means it to be, but it’s not his fault Tony goes through phases in his life of hating everyone and everything. Steve stalks down the stairs, hands shoved in his sweatpants pockets.  
He’s got on a black zip-up hoodie, and if Tony almost feels guilty about how tired Steve really looks. He knows Steve’s been worried sick about him, contemplating and tossing and turning night after night wondering when Tony, his Tony, will come back to Earth, come back to him.  
But he’s got these defining purple-blue bags under both his eyes, they’re lightly rimmed red, and his cheeks are flared pink, how they get when he’s under stress. Tony feels like a monster for turning Steve into someone he hates being, this caregiver, this babysitter to Tony’s emotions. 

“Ouch, Cap, is that the first insult you’ve ever proclaimed? It needs work.” Tony quips, not looking up from whatever he’s working on. 

“I’m not gonna fight with you.” Steve insists gently. 

“You want a metal, or?” Tony actually raises his head and turns to look at Steve, an eyebrow raised, annoyance plastered on his face. 

“I love you.”  
“Don’t say shit you don’t mean.” He goes back to his work, goes back to disregarding Steve. It’s all he’s good at, all he can be confident at. 

“I mean it every time I say it and you know it.” Steve presses harder, placing a hand on the table Tony is working on – there’s grime and oil and residue everywhere and Steve would grimace at the texture on any other day. Tony looks disheveled, appearance matching the work bench. His hair is wild – a haircut needed about two weeks ago. Curls are peeking behind his ears, and there’s a streak of oil on his right cheek. His lips are slightly chapped and Steve notes a slight shaking of Tony’s fingers as he delicately works. 

“When’s the last time you slept, ate?” Steve continues to pry. He inches closer, just slightly, just so he won’t scare Tony away. 

Tony is twisting two pieces of some kind of metal together, eyebrows screwed together in concentration before he answers with composure, “Couple days to both.” 

Steve takes a leap of faith, it’s all he can ever do with Tony: He reaches out gently and wraps his hand around Tony’s left wrist, putting his screwing of metals to a halt. His fingers always wrap around completely, so securely over Tony’s thin wrists. He pulls lightly, pulls Tony just enough to turn him so he can take his right wrist in his other hand.  
“C’mere, please,” Steve murmurs, and he’s pulling Tony in one motion into his arms. He always waits for it – waits for Tony to shove him away, curse him out, push him immediately. It’s happened before, and it is sure to happen in the future. But Steve is surprised, although thankful, when Tony’s arms wrap around Steve’s waist hesitantly. Eventually, he adjusts his arms and he’s running his hands up and down Steve’s back, almost soaking in the reality he’s been missing out on for the past few days. 

Steve inhales Tony’s hair and then buries his face in his neck, his favorite place, his hideaway, and pretends it’s plausible for them to stay in this exact position forever. 

“God, I missed this, missed you,” Tony starts. “I –” He chokes out, barely. Steve runs one hand through Tony’s matted hair and the other grips around his middle tightly. 

“You gotta stop pretending like I don’t want everything you have to offer me,” Steve commands, voice laced with both love and concern. “You gotta let me be there for you – even when life sucks, especially when life sucks.” He lets his arm that’s wrapped around Tony’s middle trail underneath his shirt and trace patterns against his skin as he talks. 

Tony kisses Steve neck so gently that Steve almost thinks it’s not real, that this Tony is still a fabrication and the real Tony is somewhere else, ignoring reality and ignoring Steve.  
But Tony places several more kisses to Steve’s jaw and his throat and Steve is reminded that this is what coming home feels like.  
“’M hungry.” Tony mumbles into Steve’s collarbone after a moment.  
“Hey –” Steve places his hands on Tony’s hips and pulls them apart. “You hear what I said to you?” His lips curl slightly, taking the edge off the conversation, but still needing clarity that Tony understands how much he really fucking cares. 

“Yeah, I heard ya, I’ll believe you even more if you make me a turkey sandwich.” Tony shoots back. Steve can tell Tony tries to manage a quirky and comedic smile, but it doesn’t make his eyes crinkle or all his laugh lines come out.  
Steve just runs his hands up and down Tony’s arms for a moment, soaking in the love of his life standing before him, sleep deprived and truthfully, a mess. 

“Yeah. Come on, sweetie, the turkey sandwich awaits at –” He looks at the clock hanging on the opposite wall of Tony’s shop. “2:17 in the morning!” He finishes with a grin.  
He pulls Tony up the stairs by the hand and soon enough, Tony is at the kitchen table, half asleep, awaiting food. The second Steve places the plate in front of him, Tony can’t help the way he savagely scarfs down the sandwich. 

“Coffee.” Tony states after pushing the plate away. He looks at Steve, not even surprised at the other man shaking his head amused, arms crossed.  
“Bed, mister. You’re crazy. Up, let’s go,” He motions for Tony to stand up, and comes around the table, offering a hand. Tony takes it and melts against his side. Steve leads Tony to the their bedroom, and it’s the first night in almost a week Steve won’t have to sleep alone.  
He guides Tony to sit on the bed. “Wait here, baby, ‘kay?” Steve doesn’t wait for Tony to agree before he’s off to the bathroom, grabbing a warm, moistened towel.  
He’s back to Tony’s side, crouching down to gently rub off the oil streaked across Tony’s cheeks. Tony complies, finding himself leaning into Steve with every stroke. Steve grabs a brush from the bedside drawer and untangles most of Tony’s unkempt hair with only a few complaints from his boyfriend. 

“Can we sleep yet, Rogers?” Tony inquires with sleepy frustration as Steve takes the rag to Tony’s face one more time.

“Yes, yes, okay, sorry,” Steve almost laughs, but truthfully, he cannot imagine how tired Tony must really be. He’s already betting Tony will be snoring soundly the second the lights are off and he is pressed into Steve’s front, wrapped tightly in his arms. 

Tony manages to untangle himself from his shirt and sweatpants, very uncoordinated, but successfully. He finds his way to his side of the bed and immediately buries himself deep under the covers, head barely visible. 

“C’mere, now, and I mean it,” He mumbles, and this time, Steve refuses to fight the smile tugging on his lips. This is all he’s thought about for nearly five days.  
He doesn’t waste another second crawling into bed next to Tony and pulling him against his chest, wrapping his arms around his stomach securely. 

“I love you, dork,” Steve murmurs into Tony’s neck, his breath making Tony shiver slightly. This warmth, this closeness, the intimacy of someone knowing every inch of your soul – it’s unsurpassed. It’s everything. It’s the only reason Tony can wake up sometimes. 

“Not as much as I love you.” Tony states through the drowsiness in his voice. And he’s never meant something so much in his life.

**Author's Note:**

> if you care the title comes from "astronaut" by gregory alan isakov and it is a lovely and beautiful song, highly recommend!!!!


End file.
